Lauren closed her eyes, her mind drifting back to the restaurant.
As the fantasy erupted in her mind, his hard lines and stacked muscles ran riot in her head. His full lips, strong jaw, and those captivating green eyes—they saw right through her, piercing her with a promise of pleasure that would leave her screaming or shaking.
Hopefully both.
Lauren’s skin sparked to life, and she brushed over her nipples that strained against the black fabric of her bra. It was a flimsy silk thing that she had spent way too much money on, but that’s what she got for trying to be sexy on the most cursed day of the year.
Her body was quick to respond to the fantasy, and while BOB was not Sir’s fingers, it was a means to a very good end.
She needed an orgasm, and if it could both feed her fantasy and remove Sir’s image from her mind afterward, then this Valentine’s Day might not turn out to be so bad after all. But she had a feeling it wouldn’t be that easy to let the memory of him go.
Teasing herself more with tugs on her taut nipples, Lauren clutched her vibrator and sucked the tip before placing it at her entrance, imagining it was Sir’s fingers about to slide inside her.
He was Prince Charming, and he was working his magic on her pussy.
Her orgasm built, but before she could claim it, a knock sounded at the door.
Disappointment sank into Lauren’s core, spreading a coolness where warmth had been only moments ago. She let out a groan as the door opened.
Switching off her vibrator with a huff, she sat up and pulled her shoulder-length brown waves away from her flushed face.
Lauren narrowed her eyes on her roommate, Shana, who was wearing a silk dressing gown, her hair much more tousled than the straight strands it usually was. She was staring down at her phone with a frown, and Lauren cleared her throat to get her attention.
It didn’t work, so she said, “Shouldn’t you be fucking Dre the Cop right now?”
Shana’s head snapped up from her phone, her eyes showing desperation. “I need a favor.” Her words came out with a tinge of whine.
Lauren’s eyes narrowed. “What kind of favor?”
Lauren kicked herself for being such a good friend, but she’d figured they both shouldn’t have a shitty night, so when Shana had begged her to go to her office to process some paperwork, Lauren had agreed.
Which was how she ended up outside Shana’s office building on a freezing-cold night.
Craning her neck up at the skyscraper, Lauren swallowed the unease building inside her. Though Shana had assured her she wouldn’t get in trouble, something told her the curse wasn’t done with her yet.
It was still Valentine’s Day, after all.
Lauren entered the building using the codes Shana had given her and told the guard what Shana had told her to say. In the elevator on the way up to Hawke Industries’ top floor, Lauren’s anxiety grew that Shana’s boss, who was an asshole, she’d said, would be there.
Logan Hawke, the famously handsome, stupidly rich playboy and Wall Street CEO, was a name that had floated around Lauren’s father’s home for years. Now, Logan’s sexcapade stories had become part of her and Shana’s dinner conversations.
So she knows of him, but only by reputation. She wasn’t interested in seeking out men like her father in real life or in print, which might have been a good thing when it came to Logan. From what she’d heard of him, she’d have an orgasm just by looking at him.
Everything Shana had said about the code and guard had been correct, and she’d also said her boss was at dinner with “this week’s toy,” so that should be correct too.
She padded over the soft carpet, the square space dark and intimidating. The only light came from the buildings on the other side of the floor-to-ceiling windows that made up the entire right wall, the black walls and carpet doing nothing to reflect it.
It had two tiers and sat to the left of the doors, facing the New York City skyline. In a rush to leave before setting off some silent alarm, she went over to the desk, appreciating what little view of the glowing nightlife she caught on the way.
Sinking into the plush white office chair, Lauren switched on the computer and logged on with Shana’s information then followed Shana’s instructions, grabbing the folders and files she needed before adding them to an email.
Lauren clicked send, but the attachments were large, so she had to wait before she could turn the computer off and leave. She leaned back in the chair, glancing around and feeling proud of her friend for her achievements.
Shana’s family never had money or stability, so she had worked her ass off for everything she had. And because she fought for everything, she appreciated what she got. Shana had been the reason Lauren had stopped accepting her father’s money after college.
Sitting in this sparse office space, pride for her friend’s accomplishments aside, Lauren was so fucking glad this wasn’t her life, that she wasn’t stuck in a box like this one every day. She was her own boss.
But that didn’t mean her life was easier. Female bosses had to work harder to get the same level of respect as their male counterparts, so she had to be more disciplined. While others were out there living, laughing, and loving, she was still working.
If it meant she would never be in a box, would never have to rely on anyone but herself, it was worth every sleepless night.
The computer chimed, pulling Lauren out of her errant thoughts. The email had gone through, so she texted Shana. Letting out a rush of air, she logged out, turned the computer off, and stood.
Stepping to leave, she stopped in her tracks as her eyes caught movement in a shadowed corner of the wall. As soon as she focused in on the area, a towering man in a fitted suit stepped out, blocking her way to the elevator.
Lauren sucked in a breath as recognition pinged in her mind, then it pinged in between her legs.
It was him. Sir.
